Stray Hounds
by Ruler of Dice
Summary: It was a rarity that he was forced into hiding. Yet here he was, in an alley, with the whole city after him. There he meets a feral creature with a grin just like his own. Two strays find each other, and take down those who get in their way. Jeff the Killer thinks that this wasn't a fiasco after all. Smile Dog agrees.


**Hello once again, readers. I bring you yet another Jeff the Killer fanfic, this time featuring Smile Dog. A friend of mine actually helped me get started on this, so thank you for the inspiration! And a reviewer gave me a boost in confidence with what they said on "A Chance Encounter". You have my gratitude, XAnimeXFreakXForeverX. One last thanks to ShadowCat98 for favoriting my second story. I'd like to point out that anonymous reviews are allowed, so anyone can leave some advice, if they have any. If you like this fic, then drop by my profile and check out the others I have written. I hope you enjoy.**

**Warnings: Disturbing Imagery, Graphic Violence, and Scary Subject Matter. If you are under 13, or uncomfortable with these things, then I don't recommend reading this.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Jeff the Killer or Smile Dog. Only the plot of this story is mine.**

A mistake was not an option in his line of work. One little slip-up would bring disaster to him, even if he couldn't die in the traditional sense. If he were to be captured while in the human world, then there was a good chance that the number of people who feared him would plummet. Why should anyone be afraid of a killer that's been caught? They shouldn't; if he's been caught once, then surely he could be caught again. The people would forget why they were frightened in the first place.

And that would be the end of Jeff the Killer. Which would be awful because the world would be with one less artistic psychopath. Ugliness would strangle what little beauty there was left if it weren't for him. He was doing the universe a favor by creating paintings of blood, with his knife as the brush, and bodies for his canvas. And as much as he would like to slaughter all of the pigs chasing him, he couldn't, knowing that the entire district was on red alert. It would only bring more people after him.

But he couldn't think on that any longer, for he could still hear the sound of sirens wailing through the urban streets. This is what happened when one made a mistake. Instead of the hunter, he was the hunted. Jeff did _not_ like the feeling at all. He was extremely lucky that he was a fast runner, or else he would be as good as dead. Though he wouldn't be able to keep up this pace for much longer. His human side was starting to come out again, limiting his capabilities. Well, that explained why he couldn't disappear into the Nightmare Realm like usual.

The deathly pale man decided that finding a place to hide was a good idea, so he started scanning the concrete jungle. Clouds in the sky had blocked the moonlight, and the streetlamps were in a state of great neglect, making his task more burdensome than it should have been. The only good part about the city was the fact that there were no tree roots to make him stumble. His strides were smooth and even, giving him the grace and power of a bloodthirsty panther.

Eventually he noticed a small alleyway hidden between two decaying brick buildings. Perfect. Without a second thought he ducked into the narrow space, pressed a hand against his over-exerted heart, and panted heavily. Now he knew what it must have felt like for all of the victims whose hearts he had ripped out of their still breathing bodies. But he didn't feel regret for his past deeds. It only encouraged him to do it more often. After all, pain is beauty.

He had to admit, being chased like a rabbit by a pack of wolves was certainly thrilling, but the murderer still prefered being the one that did the pursuing. Being at the top of the food chain was _much_ better. The knowledge that you could easily massacre a town if you wanted to was a sadistic delight. Images of him slicing his way through hordes of frantic people, crimson rain and body parts flying through the air stuck in his mind, creating a maze of thought that he happily got lost in.

But his thoughts eventually turned to the events that got him into this mess in the first place. He had done everything right; he appeared, scared his victim, and then killed him. It was so simple. But he didn't check to see if anyone else was in the domicile at the time. The man he killed had a lover with him, and she happened to hear everything. Like any smart person, she immediately dialed 911. He barely had time to kill her and hang up the phone before police were pounding at the door. He felt fear for the first time, an emotion that sapped him of his strength. So, he escaped out the window, with the cops right on his heels. Now here he was, trapped in a filthy crevice, waiting for the opportunity to get out of there.

Rustling and loud gulping sounds from nearby made Jeff snap back to attention. He quickly stood up and tensed, ready to strike at any sign of danger. With his knife clutched safely in his left hand he scoured the area, sunken ebony eyes darting around and macabre grin never wavering. He saw nothing at first. The buildings were obscuring what little light was available, increasing the difficulties of trying to see in the dark.

After a little more searching he was able to make out a vague shape behind a rotten dumpster. It was probably a stray animal of some sort, trying to find a meager scrap of food in a trash heap. But his theory was contradicted when he heard the familiar sound of flesh being torn from bone. He decided to investigate further, his curious nature getting the better of him yet again. Stepping lightly so he wouldn't startle the creature, he cautiously moved over to get a closer view.

The animal was definitely a dog; he could tell because many of his victims had owned one, so he could easily identify them, if needed. Jeff didn't have a good enough perspective to see anything but its back. And he couldn't make out its exact coloring either. He could see that a shaggy strip of dark hair ran from the too if its head and along the animal's spine, ending about half-way down. It had large muscles, surprising since it was, at least he assumed so, a stray. But it explained how the canine was able to take down its current meal, a sight that filled the killer with demented glee.

Dinner that night happened to be a large male, fresh from what he could tell. Clouds moved and unblocked the moonlight, giving Jeff a better view of the kill. Turns out it wasn't just a random person, but one of the cops that had been chasing him before. Oh the irony. This man had been searching for him in this alley, and would've found him if the large dog hadn't intervened. Humor was bubbling up in the murderer's chest. Forgetting that he was in the vicinity of a wild creature that was just as dangerous as him, he laughed, a raspy sound which echoed down the alley.

Suddenly he had 120 pounds brute force on top of him, snarling with murderous intent. Finally, Jeff was able to see the creature's face. It's eyes were a vibrant yellow, practically glowing from within their sockets. Red was the color of its face, hiding the blood that most certainly stained it. It had a monstrous grin spread from ear to ear, nearly identical to his own. Wisps of black hair hung down in front, another trait that they shared.

White noise and a high pitched ring invaded Jeff's mind. It strengthened the monster inside him, completely overwhelming any human weakness left. He would have drowned in an ocean of insanity if he hadn't already fallen over the precipice of madness long ago. The sound was welcome, and the black-eyed man let it house itself into his soul, filling him with power. He knew that _he_ had control of the situation now, despite the position that he and the now subdued canine were in.

Said dog jumped off of him, cautiously slinking back, away from the killer. It probably wasn't used to anyone that didn't fear it. Slowly, so as not to scare the poor thing, the psychotic man sat up, bringing one knee to his chest, opposite leg laying flat against the ground. He extended his right hand to the creature, palm facing upwards to show that he meant no harm, a first for a man who had numerous kills under his belt.

But he kept his knife clutched in left his hand, hidden behind his leg. Just in case the animal decided to attack again. He hoped that wouldn't happen, the yellow-eyed being in front of him reminded him a lot of himself. It was too naturally gorgeous to just kill. Well, if the dog really was like him, then that really wouldn't be a problem. Dying was something that they both couldn't do. He decided to attempt to gain the others trust by speaking.

"We're very similar, you know." He whispered to the grinning dog. He exposed his knife and pointed it to the half-eaten corpse by the dumpster, "You kill people," Then he gestured to himself, "And I kill people. We're both hunters. Strays. Maybe we could become a pack and slaughter humans together. Make the world beautiful. Haunt the nightmares of children and adults alike." He tilted his head, two dead pools of black stared imploringly at opposite orbs of glowing yellow. "What do you say, hm?"

The grinning canine stared back, contemplating whether or not he should trust the other. Jeff waited patiently, his hand still stretched out. Finally, after a moment of undisturbed silence, the red-furred animal inched closer, and rested his head against the ivory appendage offered to him. Jeff rubbed the top of the creatures head, being sure to scratch behind his ears too.

A gasp interrupted the scene, alerting the both of them to another presence in the alleyway. They turned their heads to the source of the sound, their matching grins frightening the newcomer. Jeff examined the quivering man, identifying him as a police officer from his uniform. He was probably there to investigate the disappearance of the dead cop. They were supposed to keep in constant radio contact during a red alert, after all.

Screams started making their way out of the damned man's throat, the effect of being near two beings of darkness already taking a toll on his psyche. Quickly he turned and took off, trying to escape the madness. It plagued his mind like a virus, infecting every thought with images of mutilated corpses and static. He couldn't see, he couldn't feel, all he could do was try to find a way out.

Jeff watched in amusement as the victim in front of him ran in circles, tripping and stumbling. After a few minutes spent watching the spectacle, the killer started to become bored. He raised his weapon up and pointed it directly at the soon to be dead prey. With a glance to the dog beside him he commanded, authoritive voice echoing, "Get him, boy."

Before he could even blink, the dog had pounced on the victim, his jaws wrapping around the fragile throat. He bit down, causing fountains of blood to spurt out as the jugular was torn. The officer collapsed to the ground, still alive against all odds, and gasped for breath. Jeff stood up, dusting the dirt off of his black pants, then made his way over to the dying man. He crouched down, balancing on his toes, and tapped the knife against his knee.

Tears were streaming down the broken man's face, mingling with life essence still flowing out of his bite wound. The cop opened his mouth and struggled to say something, but blood was filling his lungs, and all he could manage was a strange gurgling noise. Jeff hushed him, pressing his knife against the injured officer's lips, "Go to sleep." There was nothing the injured man could do. So he closed his eyes, succumbing to the darkness. His soul left his body and plummeted straight to the pits of Hell, like many others had before him, as Jeff carved his trademark grin onto his face.

"Beautiful..." The killer mumbled, standing up and looking over his work. "But such a waste, don't you think?" He questioned his canine companion with a curious look. The dog nodded his head in agreement, then splashed the steadily growing pool of blood with his paw. Both of their grotesque grins grew wider. Great minds really _do_ think alike.

Tucking his knife away, he bent down and soaked his hands in the crimson substance. He then moved over and stood in front of one of the buildings. He pondered over what he could do, many ideas rushing throgh his mind. He snapped his fingers when he found the perfect one, accidently flicking blood onto his face. He started painting with slow, calculating strokes, brushing his hands against rough brick. The unorthadox artist connected lines and formed shapes, stopping only to collect some more scarlet paint.

Jeff took a step back when he was finished, wiping excess blood onto his white sweatshirt. The murderer gazed at the painting he created, joined by his furry friend in appreciating the artwork. Two large eyes, similar to the killer's, were staring back at them. Underneath was a cartoonish version of man and dog's shared grin. Above the whole thing, written in bold, jagged lettering, was "SMILE".

"That's your new name," The psychopath informed the canine, kneeling down and running his pale fingers through the other's mop of black hair, "Smile. Short for Smile Dog."

Smile let out a gracious bark, his namesake stretched out as wide as possible. Jeff laughed, "Good boy. Now, eat up." He nodded his head toward their latest kill. The creature pounced on the body and gorged himself on the delicious flesh while Jeff watched, amused at his new best friend's antics.

And so begins the tale of a killer and his dog.


End file.
